


What is Man, That Thou Art Mindful of Him?

by hellseries



Category: Ethan of Athos - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellseries/pseuds/hellseries
Summary: Research proposals are all well and good... until they aren't.
Relationships: Terrence Cee/Ethan Urquhart
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	What is Man, That Thou Art Mindful of Him?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Greenygal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenygal/gifts).



“So you selectively destroy X-chromosome-bearing sperm. What about karyotypes other than XY in the embryo?”

“Those are selected out at the blastocyst sampling stage,” said Ethan. He was aware of feeling a slight resentment, and hoped it wasn’t showing in his voice.

“Androgen insensitivity?”

“We can detect that early and correct it in utero.”

“And do you really have no transgender or agender individuals? No one who identifies as nonbinary?”

Ethan frowned. “I’m still not certain I grasp what you mean by nonbinary,” he said. “Are you referring to intersex individuals? I’m aware of Betan hermaphrodites, but none has ever immigrated to Athos--”

“No, no,” said Dr. Zamora dismissively. “Here again you’re confusing gender with sex.”

“I don’t actually know that we have gender, strictly speaking,” said Ethan. “Or that we have more than one, anyway.”

“Presumably the concept of gender itself requires that there be more than one,” Zamora mused. “Of course, you’re aware that females exist outside of Athos, so perhaps for the typical Athosian, male gender is opposed to this theoretical or imaginary Other. But surely that would not preclude some individuals identifying with that Other, rather than with the male gender presupposed at their birth?”

Ethan shook his head. “I… no, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of anyone declaring himself female. If anyone did, we’d assume they were either confabulating for shock value, or severely mentally ill. That’s outside my wheelhouse.”

“I’m trying to imagine a society without gender,” said Zamora. “But I can’t. I wish there were some way we could send an observer.”

“Well, a male researcher could petition for citizenship,” said Ethan, “but that would be a permanent decision, and communication would be virtually impossible after immigration. This conversation we’re having now is technically illegal, or would be if it were known to be possible.”

“If we’d thought about it, we could have gotten Commander Quinn to give us—or sell us, more likely—one of her little bugs,” said Terrence, from the other side of Ethan’s desk.

Ethan started slightly. Terrence had been so quiet and unassuming that Ethan had forgotten he was there. (Presumably Dr. Zamora had as well, since Ethan couldn’t remember her addressing any questions to him since shortly after they were introduced.) Ethan, being in the same room, had no excuse for this; it was perhaps more pardonable in Zamora, who was offplanet and was communicating via low-bandwidth transmission from Kline Station, relayed via a repeater stationed in the wormhole.

“What an interesting idea,” said Zamora, leaning forward. “If we had an Athosian observer wearing an unnoticeable recording device, simply going about his day-to-day existence—"

“I’m sorry, Dr. Zamora, but such a project would be completely out of the question,” said Ethan. “You must understand that medical confidentiality—”

  
“Of course, of course,” said Zamora. “Our participant, whoever he or she—pardon, whoever _he_ might be—would of course be able to switch off recording at will; but in your case so much of your daily routine involves confidential medical or counseling tasks that you’d be providing us with very little data.”

“I could do it,” Terrence said.

“Yes, Mr. Cee?” Zamora said encouragingly.

Ethan opened his mouth to object, then very deliberately closed it again.

“I don’t know how useful a participant I’d be—” Terrence began, but Dr. Zamora was leaning forward again, eyes bright.

“Actually you’d be an ideal participant,” she said. “I wouldn’t claim that native Athosians are unaware of their cultural assumptions about sex and gender, but certainly they take things for granted that you don’t. It seems likely that you would often bump up against norms, or habits of thought, or practices that go unquestioned or even unnoticed by most Athosians. When you do, people would tend to comment, or explain, or correct you, am I right?”

Terrence smiled and ducked his head. “Quite often, yes.” He looked at Ethan and the smile broadened. “We often find each other baffling, if not disconcerting.”

“And so we’d be gathering not just observational data, but a window into how the people of Athos think about the way they live, the ways they explain and justify their culture to themselves. And to others, to the extent that they communicate with others.” She was not quite rubbing her hands together, but she did have them clasped together on her desk. Ethan laced his fingers together to remind himself not to interrupt. His unease was growing.

Zamora continued, “As for the confidentiality issue—what kind of work are you engaged in?”

“I’m an apprentice horticulturist,” said Terrence. “I spend most of my time in small groups, but I encounter a lot of different people. Most of my co-workers have completed ten or twelve years of basic education, plus three or four years of specialized training in horticulture or related fields—hydrology, forestry, ocean ecology—but since I’m totally new to it all, they have me rotating from team to team to learn the rudiments of everything. So I’m getting to know quite a few people, a handful at a time.”

“Are most of them your age or younger?”

Terrence nodded. “The instructors are a mixed bag—everything from late 20s to the brink of retirement—but most of the apprentices are in their early 20s to mid-30s, barring a few who are making career changes.”

“So not many opportunities to study family life or childrearing,” said Zamora.

“No, not really,” said Terrence.

“And obviously these people are all well-integrated into society, not institutionalized or under any kind of legal or penal restriction—”

“No, nothing like that. There’s not much of a penal system here, not compared with what I’ve heard of on Kline Station for example. People who aren’t well-adjusted, or don’t want to fit in with mainstream culture, seem to end up in the Outlands. In fact—”

Ethan, at the thought that Terrence might be about to suggest a trip to the Outlands, inhaled sharply and choked. Presented with the thought of Janos coming face-to-face with Terrence, who in all respects might as well be introduced with “Meet your vastly superior replacement!”, Ethan’s mind simply shut down. The atmospheric pressure in the room seemed to drop; he felt flushed, his heart pounded and he couldn’t get enough air. Dimly he heard Dr. Zamora’s concerned, “Dr. Urquhart?” and Terrence’s bland assurances that there had been an urgent message on another channel and they’d have to go now. And then the room lights were dimmed and something warm and soft was draped over his shoulders.

“Ethan? Can you hear me?” Terrence asked softly.

Ethan nodded, still gasping.

“Can you talk?”

Ethan shook his head.

“Breathe with me,” said Terrence, and Ethan struggled to comply. Gradually his panic subsided and he was breathing raggedly, but no longer hyperventilating. Terrence knelt by his chair, rubbing slow circles on his back. Ethan pulled the draping fabric closer around himself, recognizing it at last as Terrence’s jacket.

“Thanks,” he muttered, embarrassed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ethan sighed. “Not especially. But we probably should.”

“I’m listening.”

Ethan made a small noise somewhere between laughter and exasperation. “So it turns out I might have some unresolved issues about my foster brother…”

Terrence nodded, but couldn’t quite school his face into solemnity. “I’m getting that, yeah.”

Ethan smiled ruefully. “And here I thought you were cutting back on the tyramine.”

“No tyramine required, this time. And you really don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do want to. I told you about Janos, how we grew up together, how I thought he’d be my D.A. I never bothered to find out if that was what he wanted. It turned out not to be. You know.”

Terrence nodded again.

“And you know we were lovers, after we grew up.”

Another nod.

“Did you know the Betans consider that incest? Dr. Zamora was quite shocked when I first mentioned it to her. Anyway. You might have wondered why I never introduced you to Janos, never brought you in on our vid-calls.”

“I figured it was a privacy thing. Or that there was bad feeling.”

“I’m sure there is. And I think if he saw you, saw us together, there would be—it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Was he in love with you?”

Ethan shook his head. “No. I think I was convenient. We were both convenient, for each other. And neither one of us stopped to pay attention to what the other really wanted. But Janos doesn’t like to lose, and he doesn’t like anything that suggests he’s not perfect. From his perspective, you’re his replacement. And much as I love my foster-brother, believe me when I tell you that he cannot compete with you in any way whatsoever. Looks, talent, skills, trustworthiness… least of all, in my affection. I felt closer to you after a few days on Kline Station than I did to him after our entire childhood and young adulthood. And I think if he saw us together he’d realize that right away.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes. It would be horribly painful for him. And when he’s hurt, he lashes out. If he lashed out at me, I could handle it. But if he lashed out at you—and he would; he’s not stupid and he’d know that would hurt me worse—then one of you would certainly get hurt, and it would be my fault.”

Terrence shook his head. “So, no research expedition to the Outlands.”

Ethan shuddered. “No.” He looked up at Terrence. “But it sounded like you were very interested in Dr. Zamora’s ‘project’.”

Terrence shrugged. “Not if it’s going to cause some huge upheaval. But…”

“But?”

“Well, she’s right that I’m in a weird, marginal position here. Not that you and your parents haven’t made me welcome! And most of the people at the Institute are great. But I don’t really know how to be a member of a society. And this one in particular is… well, you know how spotty and incomplete my upbringing was. And even the little bit I know of how normal people relate to each other doesn’t apply very well to Athos. It’s nice, sometimes, to speak with someone who understands that. And it would be nice to have something to offer in return.”

Ethan slipped Terrence’s jacket off his shoulders and returned it to him. “I can see that. But on the other hand, I know you know what it’s like to be regarded as a freak.”

Terrence nodded.

“That’s what it’s like to be Athosian, in any encounter with someone from the outside. I don’t relish putting my world under someone’s microscope for their titillation and amusement. Dr. Zamora’s a brilliant researcher and quite professional, but there’s still just a little… I don’t know, condescension maybe? The least hint of Betan-know-it-all-ism. They have human psychology and anthropology and all the other -ologies so thoroughly figured out, and everything is to be weighed and measured in comparison to their highly-evolved and enlightened society. You know?”

“I do know.”

They were silent for a while, then Terrence offered: “How about this? When I finish my qualifying exams, I can request assignment to the research arm of the Institute. They’ve been discussing the possibility of virtual participation in scientific conferences for the past year and a half—ever since you came back.”

“I guess it’s a good thing they only got the edited version of my experiences, or they’d be tearing out all the comm systems and hiding in the subbasement instead.”

“Yes, thank you for that. Anyway, if that goes through, and everything goes well, I’d be in a good position to apply for real off-world travel if the Information Council approves it. I could actually meet Dr. Zamora in person one day. And we could have a few beers, maybe some liver canapés. And then you wouldn’t have to speculate about her intentions and attitude toward Athos. We’d know for sure.”

Ethan felt a slow smile begin. “By God the Father,” he said. “We would indeed.” He leaned into Terrence’s warm hug, and the last of his anxiety drained away.


End file.
